Warriors Tunes
by LittleMissMusic1993
Summary: Sylvester tries to eat Tweety one too many times and Granny decides that she's had enough. She drives him far away and abandons him on the side of a wooded highway. He wanders through the trees and meets some unexpected natives: ShadowClan.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Looney Tunes or Warriors.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Once again, Sylvester was sneaking up on little Tweety, who was in his cage, happily swinging on his porch and humming to himself. He was unaware of the cat at first. Then, about a heartbeat later, the little yellow bird stopped swinging and looked behind him.

But before Tweety turned around all the way, Sylvester had ducked, so when the bird was looking behind him, he saw nothing.

"I tawt I taw a puddy tat!" Tweety exclaimed, looking sideways.

Then Sylvester pushed himself back to his feet, coming into view.

"I did, I did taw a puddy tat!" Tweety jumped off his porch as the black-and-white cat opened the bird's cage. He ran into the corner as Sylvester reached inside.

Just then, when Sylvester was inches away from grabbing Tweety, something hit the cat on the back of the head and pain shot through him. He ducked down and turned around to find Granny standing behind him with an umbrella in her hands.

"Get down!" she yelled at the cat, who jumped off the chair and ran into a corner of the room.

Usually Granny would tell Tweety that everything was okay and that the "bad puddy tat" wouldn't hurt him anymore, and then, when she was gone, Sylvester would, once more, try to grab Tweety, never learning his lesson.

But this time, Granny walked over to Sylvester, who was trembling with fear in the corner.

"That's it!" the old lady exclaimed. "I've had enough of you trying to eat Tweety!"

Sylvester blinked up at Granny, who picked him up off the floor. He wondered where she was taking him. Before he could fight to get free, Granny took him outside. Curious, the black-and-white tom just let her carry him to her car.

Granny threw her cat in the passenger seat, and, after slamming the door, she walked over to the driver side. She got in and took the keys out of her pocket. She turned the engine on and drove out onto the road. Sylvester looked out the window, having a very bad feeling about this.

* * *

Finally, after hours of driving, Granny stepped on the brakes. The car came to a halt, sending poor Sylvester flying into the front window. Granny grabbed the cat's paw and jerked him off the window. Then she opened her door and threw Sylvester out of the car.

Before the black-and-white cat could make sense of what was happening, Granny went in reserve, then did a sharp turn around, and, within a couple of heartbeats, her car was out of sight.

Sylvester jumped to his paws and looked about. _Where am I?_ he thought, starting to freak out as reality hit him.

He saw some trees and a small gorge. He blinked several times and then sighed.

"Oh, Sylvester," he said to himself, spitting as he pronounced the S sound. "You've done it now!" He kicked a tiny rock and watched it fall into the gorge. Walking on his hind paws, he started toward a forest in the distance.

As he got closer to the woods, he noticed signs of cats and lots of them. The air was thick with their scent. Dropping to all fours, he crouched down and followed the cat smell. Maybe they could show him the way back to Granny's.

At the edge of the pine forest, he sniffed the ground. A strange scent touched his tongue, and it was fresh.

Just then, he heard a yowl. He pricked his ears as he looked up. Three cats were running his way, their fur bristling. One of them was a ginger tom, another a tortoiseshell she-cat, and the last one was a smaller ginger cat.

Sylvester blinked as the cats came to a halt in front of him. He put his head to one side, confused.

"Don't take another step, loner!" the small ginger cat hissed.

Sylvester blinked again. _Loner?_ he thought, flattening his ears against his head. _I guess_ _I am a loner now..._

"What are you doing so close to our borders?" the bigger ginger tom growled.

"I… I didn't realize there were other… other cats here," Sylvester stammered.

"Didn't you smell our scent markers?" The tortoiseshell put her head to one side.

"Tawnypelt," the older ginger tom growled," stop being friendly!"

"I was just asking a question, Rowanclaw!" Tawnypelt hissed. Then she sighed. "I'm sorry," she added more gently. "Why are you near our borders anyways?" she asked Sylvester, who tried to explain, but the small ginger tom interrupted him.

"It doesn't matter _why_ he's here," he snarled. "Let's drive him out!"

"Shh, Starlingpaw!" Rowanclaw cuffed the young cat over the ear.

Sylvester was even more confused. _Very strange names,_ he thought.

"We can't drive him out," Tawnypelt argued.

"But the warrior code says challenge all trespassers!" Starlingpaw objected, his fur bristling.

"I think Blackstar should be the one who decides what we do with him," Tawnypelt replied calmly.

The ginger tom nodded. "I agree with Tawnypelt," he meowed, then added to Sylvester," Follow us."

The ginger tom turned, as Tawnypelt and Starlingpaw surrounded Sylvester, who looked at them with uncertainty. The small ginger tom didn't look happy about the decision, but he seemed to know better than to argue with older cats. Stepping over the scent line, Sylvester followed Rowanclaw, with the other two flanking him on either side.

As they walked through the forest, the pine nettles that covered the ground muffled their pawsteps, so Sylvester was able to make out the sound of tiny creatures scuttling over the forest floor or rustling in the branches above. His mouth watered from all the delicious smells. And was that what he thought it was? He pricked his ears, listening to the chirping.

"Birds!" he exclaimed, licking his lips.

"Of course, mouse-brain," Starlingpaw muttered, glaring at Sylvester. "What else did you expect to find in a forest?"

The black-and-white tom didn't reply; only stopped walking when his eyes fixed on a bird hopping around the roots of a tree, searching for food. It was completely unaware of Sylvester, but the former house cat knew nothing about hunting and he started running straight at the bird. His quarry heard him coming and went soaring into the air. Unable to stop in time, Sylvester slammed into the tree. He sat up, shaking his head and watching as the bird flew to the treetops. He growled to himself.

"Hey!"

Sylvester turned around when he heard an angry hiss. He saw the three cats stalking toward him. Starlingpaw had been the one who had called out.

"What do you think you're doing, hunting on _our_ territory?" the young cat demanded.

"I… I…" Sylvester stammered. He couldn't help himself. He thought he'd be able to catch that bird, now that his mind was off of Tweety.

"He's right," Tawnypelt meowed, padding over to Sylvester. "You shouldn't hunt on our land. Although it's Greenleaf, this season will be over soon enough and prey will go into hiding when the weather turns cold."

Sylvester nodded, though he didn't have a clue about anything the she-cat just said, but he didn't want to seem stupid, so he pretended to know. Just then, his stomach growled loudly, and hotness washed over him, embarrassed.

"You must be hungry," Tawnypelt mewed. "Come on. Let's get to camp."

Rowanclaw stared at her. "You must have bees in your brain, Tawnypelt," he hissed. "We can't share our food with this stranger!"

"Yeah!" Starlingpaw glared at Sylvester.

Tawnypelt swiped the younger cat over the ears, claws sheathed. "That's for Blackstar to decide," she meowed to Rowanclaw. "He was the leader last time I checked."

The ginger tom bristled, glaring at Tawnypelt, and Sylvester was convinced that they were about to fight each other. He backed away, but Starlingpaw growled at him, and he froze. After several moments, Rowanclaw laid his fur flat, and he took a step back.

"Fine," he growled. "Let Blackstar decide." He shot Sylvester a look before spinning around and storming off. Tawnypelt and Starlingpaw got into position again on either side of the former house cat, and followed Rowanclaw deeper into the heart of the pine forest.

A while went by. Finally, Sylvester made out a swath of brambles and low-hanging branches above a dip in the ground. He sniffed the air and all kinds of different smells hit him. He pricked his ears. He could hear muffled meowing.

Tawnypelt put her tail on his shoulder as Rowanclaw and Starlingpaw went through a gap in the wall of brambles.

"Come on." The tortoiseshell she-cat led Sylvester through the gap.

Sylvester widened his eyes as he stepped into the clearing. Cats were everywhere: Some were basking in the sunshine; Some were grooming themselves or their campmates, while they gossiped. As Sylvester entered their home, cats turned to look curiously at him. Others glared at him, their eyes burning with hostility.

Rowanclaw slipped away and when he reappeared, he was followed by a large white tom with huge jet-black paws. The two cats were padding over to Sylvester, who ducked low. He didn't like the look of this cat. He seemed powerful, and Sylvester certainty didn't want to get into a fight with him.

"Would you like to tell me what you were doing so close to ShadowClan territory?" The huge white tom stopped in front of Sylvester, who, still crouching down, blinked in confusion.

"ShadowClan?" Sylvester echoed, spitting as he spoke the unfamiliar word. He straightened up and put his head to one side. "What's that?"

"I can tell you're not from around here," the white tom mewed. "Every cat around here knows about the four Clans that rule by the lake. But anyways, this is ShadowClan," he went on, gesturing at the residents of the camp. "And I'm Blackstar, leader of these cats." Blackstar leaned closer to Sylvester. "Who are you, and where did you come from? And why were you near our border?"

"My name is Sylvester, and…" Sylvester explained how he once belonged to this elderly lady, who had a canary, and that he would try to catch the bird to eat, but Granny always stopped him or her dog would chase him. He even thought he'd get some pity, if he told the leader that Granny never fed him, and that he only tried to eat Tweety, because he was so hungry. He told him some of the stuff that happened to him when he tried grabbing the little bird, like getting hit in the head by something, or being ripped apart by the dog.

By the time he was finished, every cat in the clearing was listening to Sylvester's story, sympathy shining in their eyes.

"That's terrible!" a mottled brown she-cat mewed.

"Twolegs don't know how to treat their cats," a dark brown tom growled.

"Stupid twolegs," a pure-white she-cat muttered crossly.

Sylvester didn't understand what these cats meant by "twolegs", but he liked that they felt sorry for him. It seemed like everyone around his old home never cared enough about him.

"I'm kinda surprised you didn't try to leave earlier." Tawnypelt looked Sylvester in the eyes. "If I were you, I'd have left the first time that dog attacked me or when your twoleg hit me on the head."

_Is she talking about Granny?_ Sylvester thought, confused, but not as much as he was a moment ago. _So twolegs mean humans?_ He guessed it did, but he didn't ask any of the cats around him, because he didn't want to seem stupid.

"Well, other than those problems," Sylvester told Tawnypelt," I liked being Granny's cat. But in the end, I guess she didn't like me as her cat." He looked down at his paws with deep sadness. He rather liked people feeling sorry for him, and he wondered how far he could take it. He never knew when to stop.

Tawnypelt turned to her leader. "Couldn't he stay here, Blackstar?"

Blackstar glanced at Rowanclaw. "What do you think?" he asked the ginger tom.

"It seems that he has had a hard life," Rowanclaw meowed slowly. "Perhaps he could stay for awhile. But when he's here, he'll have to learn how to hunt and fight." The ginger tom looked at Sylvester out of the corner of his eyes; Sylvester hoped Rowanclaw wouldn't say anything about the black-and-white tom's failed attempt at hunting on the way here.

To his relief, Rowanclaw didn't mention it. Instead, he turned back to his leader and mewed," But it's up to you, Blackstar."

The huge white cat finally nodded. "Alright, you can stay," he meowed to Sylvester, who was suddenly so overwhelmed with excitement that he couldn't speak for a moment.

In the end, he blurted out," Thank you, Blackstar! Thank you!" He pushed himself to his paws. "Could you show me how to hunt now?" he ventured. Perhaps if he learned how to hunt, it would be easier to catch Tweety!

At that thought, Sylvester dropped his tail and flattened his ears against his head. He'd never see his old home again. He'd never see his friends again. _I'll never get the chance to try to catch Tweety ever again… _He suddenly felt homesick.

"Are you okay?"

Tawnypelt's voice brought Sylvester out of his thoughts.

"I'm fine," he lied.

"Well, come on, then," Rowanclaw meowed. "I'll take you out in the forest and show you the territory. Maybe we'll catch something while we're out."

"I'll come with you," Tawnypelt offered, following them out through the hole in the camp wall.

Sylvester caught up with the ginger tom once in the forest.

"Other than that bird your twoleg had," Rowanclaw mewed, breaking the silence after awhile of walking," have you ever hunted before?"

Sylvester shook his head, looking around, hoping to spot a bird so he could try to catch it.

Rowanclaw sighed. "This is going to be like training a brand new apprentice."

"So… What is ShadowClan, anyways?" Sylvester wanted to know all he could about these wild cats. If he could learn to hunt, he'd definitely stay.

"ShadowClan is one of the four Clans that live around the lake," Tawnypelt told him.

"Lake?" Sylvester echoed.

"That's right, you came from the other side of our territory." Rowanclaw pointed with his tail. "Down there is the lake. Follow me."

Obeying, Sylvester padded after the ginger cat, Tawnypelt close behind them. Soon they came to the edge of the trees and Sylvester gasped in awe. In front of him, the landscape changed to a pebbly shore that stretched down to a glittering lake, so wide that the land on the other side seemed miles away.

"Wow," the black-and-white cat breathed.

Tawnypelt came to stand at his shoulder. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

All Sylvester could do was nod, lost for words.

Stopping on Sylvester's other side, Rowanclaw flicked his ears. "Come, we have plenty more of the territory to show you, and you need to know it all if you are to stay with us for awhile."

"_All_ of it?" Sylvester gasped, looking around the lake. He didn't know if he could walk that far. And he was hungry _now_! He'd rather be hunting than touring ShadowClan's territory.

Following his gaze, Tawnypelt meowed quickly," Oh, we aren't going all around the lake. The forest over there is ThunderClan's land," she added, flicking her tail to a group of oak trees. "And the moor is where WindClan lives. Can you see it all the way across the lake? And those marshlands is where RiverClan makes their camp," she continued when Sylvester nodded after having to narrow his eyes to make out the moorland on the other side of the lake. "We only reside in this forest here," she told him, gesturing to the pine trees around them.

Sylvester's head was swimming. So many Clans! And they seemed so organized! Could he really live here and follow their rules? Could he really obey a leader? What other choice did he have? Granny didn't want him anymore. He could try living as a stray again, but there was still one issue: He didn't know how to hunt. These cats could teach him, though.

_Suppose I learn how to hunt, then leave to go live as a stray, _he suggested to himself, deciding this was a good idea. But he mustn't tell Tawnypelt or any ShadowClan cat. They might not want to teach him if they found out that he just planned to use them.

A touch on his shoulder made him jump. Then embarrassment washed over him as he realized that it had only been Tawnypelt. "Sorry," he murmured, spitting. He shifted his paws. "Did you say something?"

Tawnypelt pointed up the slope where Rowanclaw was impatiently waiting, digging his claws into the ground. "We're leaving now," she meowed. "What were you thinking about?" she asked as they climbed up to join Rowanclaw, and then they all walked farther into the woods.

Thinking fast, Sylvester replied," My old home. I just can't believe Granny threw me out like that."

"What else can you expect from twolegs?" Rowanclaw snorted. "They don't care about us."

Sylvester wanted to protest, but as he thought about it, he wondered if the ginger tom was right. All Granny ever did was yell at him or hit him over the head. She seemed to like Tweety more than she ever liked him. In the end, he decided to ask," How does a Clan work?"

"Well, there's a leader, but you already met Blackstar," Rowanclaw responded, jumping onto a fallen tree and sniffing around the roots for prey.

Tawnypelt added," The leader depends on a deputy to help run the Clan."

"Russetfur is our deputy," Rowanclaw told him. "But she's out on patrol at the moment. A medicine cat is also very important."

"Medicine cat?" echoed Sylvester.

"A cat who learns all about herbs," Tawnypelt explained," and how to help his Clanmates in a special way, by either healing their wounds after a battle or treating them if they are sick. They also interpret signs and omens from StarClan."

"What's StarClan?" Sylvester asked, sitting down. He watched as Rowanclaw dropped to a crouch and stalked closer to the bottom of the tree. In a flash, his paw went out and when he pulled back, a mouse was dangling from his claws by its tail. The ginger cat finished it with a bite to the neck.

"Great catch!" Tawnypelt exclaimed.

Sylvester's mouth watered, and he licked his jaws. "Can we eat now?"

Rowanclaw and Tawnypelt exchanged a look. "Normally, we'd hunt for the queens and elders first," Rowanclaw meowed," but we're not a hunting patrol, so sure." He tossed the mouse to the forest floor, and it landed in front of Sylvester. Instantly, he dropped down on it, but he sniffed it before tucking in.

A warm scent touched his tongue and he licked his lips hungrily. Opening his jaws, he sunk his teeth into the brown little creature. A gush of liquid flooded in his mouth, and he jumped back, spitting to get rid of that blood taste.

"What's wrong?" Tawnypelt asked anxiously.

"Don't you like it?" Rowanclaw asked.

"I just… wasn't expecting blood…" stammered Sylvester.

Tawnypelt let out a mrrow in amusement. "Once you get past that, you'll love it, I'm sure."

"Okay." This time, Sylvester was prepared and he tried to ignore the rush of blood as he bit into it again. He chewed thoughtfully, then swallowed. Now that he knew what to expect, he found himself enjoying the mouse a lot more, and he gulped down the rest of it, sitting back when he finished. He didn't notice the amused looks the ShadowClan cats were giving him until he looked up.

Ears hot with embarrassment, he asked," Did you want to share?"

Tawnypelt shook her head. "No, we can catch our own."

"Sorry," the black-and-white cat murmured.

It only took a few minutes for the two Clan cats to catch more prey. With a full belly, Sylvester sat down and waited for them to finish their food, licking his lips to savor the wonderful taste. Finally, he meowed," So you never told me what StarClan is."

"They are the Clans warrior ancestors," Rowanclaw told him. "They live in Silverpelt. Silverpelt is the sky you see at night," he explained when Sylvester opened his mouth.

"They watch over us," Tawnypelt added. "Our medicine cat speaks to them in dreams and if StarClan have something important to tell us, they usually go through our them."

Sylvester blinked. _They talk to dead cats?_ He shuddered, trying not to imagine a Clan full of ghost cats watching him.

"Hmm," Tawnypelt murmured. "What else haven't we told you? Oh, I know," she suddenly meowed. "We—" She gestured to herself and Rowanclaw—" are warriors. We hunt and defend the Clan. If you wish to stay with us, you'll have to protect it too, even at the cost of your own life."

Sylvester stared at her, not sure what to say. He didn't want to die defending a group of cats he just met! But before he could say this, Rowanclaw went on," When a kit is six moons old, they become an apprentice, and their mentor trains them how to fight and hunt, and teach them about the warrior code."

"Warrior code?" Sylvester asked, distracted from his dark thoughts.

"It's the code that we all live by," Tawnypelt told him. "You'll learn all about that soon enough."

Rowanclaw pushed himself to his paws. "But first things first, you need to learn how to hunt," he meowed. "If you wish to stay with us, you must know how to hunt for your Clan and how to fight to protect your Clanmates."

"I'd rather just learn how to hunt," Sylvester told him. Although he'd never see Tweety again or try to catch him, he knew he needed to know how to hunt if he was going to leave to be a stray. After hearing everything these two cats told him, he now knew he didn't want to stay. He didn't want to be ordered around, or die for this Clan, and the thought of dead cats watching him creeped him out too much.

_Hopefully I won't be here too long, _he thought as he followed Tawnypelt and Rowanclaw away from the fallen tree and farther into the forest.

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**Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Looney Tunes or Warriors.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"I'm a tweet wittow biwd in a diwded cage; Tweey'th my name but I don't know my age. I don't have to wuwy and dat is dat; I'm tafe in hewe fwom dat ol' puddy tat."

Noticing Granny pulling into the driveway, Tweety stopped singing and pulled to a halt on his swing, watching as the old lady got out of her car and walked to the front door. Turning, he saw her go into the kitchen.

"Hmm…" he murmured. "I wondew whewe that puddy tat id…"

Just then Granny appeared from the kitchen and walked over to Tweety's cage. "You don't have to worry about that bad ol' puddy tat anymore," the old woman told him.

"I wondew what dhe meand by that," Tweety murmured.

As if Granny understood her little bird, she explained," I dropped him off somewhere far, far from here." Without another word, the old lady turned and left the room.

"Uh oh," Tweety gasped, suddenly getting a bad feeling about this. He didn't like how Sylvester always tried to eat him, but without him here it felt strange. He had to get him back.

Hopping over to the door to his cage, he looked it over and unlocked it with ease. He noticed the opened window and flew out it. There wasn't a moment to lose.

* * *

Tweety has been flying for almost an hour straight now. He was exhausted. In the distance, he noticed a forest. Flapping his wings harder, he flew into it, landing on a branch of a tree and taking in deep breaths. He was wondering how much farther he'd have to go when he heard gunfire.

Looking up, he spotted Bugs heading his way. Right behind him was Elmer Fudd, a gun in his hands. Tweety watched as Bugs ducked into his hole. "Budt!" he called out to his friend.

Bugs poked his head out of the ground. "One, sec, doc," Then he disappeared back inside.

Elmer skidded to a halt beside the hole and crammed his gun into it. "Say youw pways, wabbit," he said, pushing the gun barrel farther into the hole.

Tweety giggled when Bugs appeared from another hole. With a wink at the little bird, the rabbit walked over to Elmer. "Eh… Ya gotta go deepa, doc."

Elmer nodded and did as the rabbit said. The barrel of the gun peeked out of the second hole, and the farther Elmer pushed the gun in, the closer it came to him, until it was right on him.

"Go ahead, doc. Shoot," Bugs told him, taking a step back out of the line of fire. Elmer pulled the trigger and the bullet sent him flying through the air. He landed miles away, hitting the ground with a _thud_.

Satisfied, Bugs turned and walked over to where Tweety was waiting. "Well, that's that," he said, dusting his hands off. "Whatcha need, Tweety?"

Quickly, Tweety told him what happened this morning, that Sylvester had been trying to catch him like always, but this time, when he was caught, Granny snatched him up and took him for a ride. He explained that hours went by and finally Granny came back, _without_ Sylvester. He confessed to getting this really weird feeling that something wasn't right, so he decided to come looking for Bugs.

As he was telling Bugs all this, Elmer had sneak up on them. Tweety didn't notice him creeping closer; he was so worried about the situation. Elmer poked the gun barrel into the rabbit's back. Lifting his arms, Bugs gave Tweety a wink that told him he had an idea.

Just as Elmer pulled the trigger, Bugs spun around and stuffed a carrot in the barrel of the gun. It blew up in Elmer's face.

When the smoke cleared, Elmer blinked, dazed. Tweety and Bugs leaned closer to the hunter, curious. Suddenly, he threw his broken gun on the ground and started running around, calling Bugs names and murmuring a few bad words under his breath.

Bugs crossed his arms and nodded, seeming more satisfied than before, if that was even possible. "Well, now let's get moving, doc," he said to Tweety as he walked away from Elmer, who was still having a mental breakdown.

Tweety flapped his wings to catch up to his friend, landing on his head.

"Do you have any idea where he might be?" Bugs asked him, glancing up at Tweety.

The bird shook his head. "Gwanny weft. Den came bact widout dat puddy tat. Dat't all I dnow."

"Do you think she'll tell us where she dropped him off?"

Tweety shrugged.

"She got upset with him, right, doc?"

The tiny bird nodded.

"So, she might not want him back…"

"But we tot to tet him back!" Tweety protested. "Thewe'd a dtwante feewind deep in my bewwy… I don't dnow exactwy what, but I do dnow, we have to find him! He belontd _hewe_, Budt!"

"Alright, alright," Bugs murmured.

* * *

The sun had gone down and the moon was starting to rise as Bugs and Tweety walked on. Stars flicked to life in the night sky. Tweety now hopped along on the ground, flying every few paces to keep up with Bugs, who moved much faster with his long legs.

"Can't we west, Budt?" the little bird panted, flapping his wings to fly up to make eye contact with the rabbit.

"Sure, doc," Bugs answered, stopping. "I could use a break, too." He sat down in front of a bush and leaned against it, crossing his legs and taking out a carrot from behind his back. As the rabbit gnawed on the carrot, Tweety came down and curled up in the leaves of the bush. He glanced around. They were on the edge of yet another forest. He lost count of how many they've passed since leaving Elmer Fudd behind.

Shivering, he wondered how much farther they had to go. They didn't even know where Sylvester was! They were basically wandering at this point…

"Do you thint the puddy tat is otay?" Tweety asked Bugs. but there was no reply. The bird looked up at the rabbit and saw that he was sound asleep. "Tood-ridht," Tweety whispered. He laid down on his back so he could look up at the dark sky, hoping they'll find Sylvester tomorrow.

His eyes were half closed when something moved above him. Startled, he watched the spacecraft floating in the night sky.

"Budt," the bird whispered, but the rabbit didn't stir. "Budt!" he tried again. Still no answer. "Budt!" he screamed in his ear.

Bugs jumped to his feet just as a yellow light shone down upon them. They found themselves being lifted in the air. Looking up, Bugs let out a heavy sigh.

"Not this character again," the rabbit murmured as he and Tweety was pulled into the spacecraft.

When they were inside, the door underneath them closed and they fell onto the hard, cold floor.

"Whewe awe we?" Tweety asked, fighting back panic.

"You're on my spacecraft. Isn't that lovely?" A voice made Tweety jump. The bird turned around and saw a strange looking creature walking towards them.

"We are kinda busy, mac," Bugs told the martian, who stopped in front of them.

"Busy?" The martian looked confused. "If you don't mind me asking, what are you two doing that makes you so busy that you can't come with me to Mars?"

Reluctantly, Bugs told Marvin what was going on. Meanwhile, Tweety looked around the spacecraft. He noticed a control panel and two seats in front of it. He guessed this ship was built for two people to drive, but there seemed to be only one martian here.

Tweety looked away from the control panel and spotted a door that led to a room with stuff that looked like coats hanging up. The coats were tan. Next to that door was another one, but it was closed, so Tweety couldn't see what was in there.

"Indeed, that does sound like you are busy." Marvin walked over to his control panel, about to push a button, but he hesitated.

"What's wrong, doc?" Bugs asked, joining the martian, who turned to him.

"How do I know what you just told me is true?" Marvin challenged him.

"Are you calling me a liar, shorty?" Bugs retorted.

"No," Marvin said calmly. "But I just want to be sure that you really are busy."

"Well, we are." Bugs crossed his arms.

"I'm not going to believe you until I see it for myself."

Tweety flew over to Bugs and Marvin. "You can come with ut, so you can dee fow yourdelf."

Bugs looked like he was about to protest, but before he could, Marvin spoke up. "Yes, I believe I will come with you," he said, nodding. "And see if you are lying or telling the truth. But," he added, pulling out a strange looking gun and pointing it at Bugs," if you are lying, I'm going to disintegrating you."

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